Grams smiled brightly at him. “Thank you, sweetheart! You’re helping me out more than you know.”
It took a great deal of effort for Wynter not to roll her eyes. She avoided meeting Marcus’s gaze, though now she could feel his attention burning a hole in the side of her face. He didn’t say another word to her before he grabbed his coat and headed out the door. The second he left, Grams was staring her down as well.
“If you knew what was good for you, you’d apologize to him when he returns. This is your chance to make things right.” With that, she picked up the paper and set her focus on the crossword.
The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong.
Wynter pulledthe pot of stew off the stove and placed it on the counter. Grams had opted to lie down for a late morning nap before Marcus had returned. He’d replaced the capacitor, which happened to be some kind of battery for appliances. Then he went out to the woodshed and started chopping.
The sound of the axe splitting through the air had been her companion while she cut the vegetables and seared the meat for her stew. By the time he was lumbering toward the house with an armful of wood, she had two bowls filled and placed at the table.
Wynter opened the door for him before he had the chance to tap at it with the toe of his boot. He looked up at her with surprise, then grunted out his thanks when she stepped aside and allowed him entry.
Quietly closing the door, she watched him place the chunks of wood in a neat pile beside the fireplace. As if against her own will, she was drawn to him. Fiddling with the hem of her shirt, she moved closer to him.
His efforts slowed, then stopped altogether. Marcus’s whole body went stock-still. She could see the tightness in the muscles around his shoulders and neck. It was like he was preparing himself for an attack.
She’d done that.
She’d put him on edge.
Wynter blew out a breath and looked away. Anywhere but at him.
Even now, thoughts of dreams she’d once had of the two of them together hit her hard. It was all a pipedream. None of what she fantasized about would come true because that’s all they were. Fantasies. People didn’t live happily ever after.
No, people were a disappointment.
They always left.
Marriage was for suckers.
Families that stuck together were an anomaly.
The world in general was selfish.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you, Marcus.”
He flinched at her voice, and her heart cracked just a little.
“You didn’t have to—” she continued before he cut her off.
Marcus had picked up another piece of wood to place on the pile. “I know I didn’t have to, Wynter.” His voice sounded so… defeated. “I know,” he repeated.
Wynter nodded. She shuffled her feet, her stockinged toes digging into the worn carpet at her feet. “Well, thanks. I want you to know I appreciate it.”
He cut her a look over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome.” After placing the last piece of wood on the pile, he rested his hands on his knees. “Nora said that there’s an issue with a leaky showerhead.”
“Yeah, in the main bathroom.”
“I can take a look?—”
“After lunch. I made stew?—”
“You don’t have to feed me.”
“And you didn’t have to help us out.”
He rose to his full height and turned around. She lifted her chin, not caring how defiant she looked. They stared at each other, searching, waiting. Finally, he nodded and held out a hand toward the kitchen. “Lead the way.”
